Fallen
by Lamby
Summary: Two troubled young mutants with criminal records arrive in South Africa to get caught up in a battle between cops and notorious drugs dealer.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**A/N:** Rating for language, substance misuse and implied adult situations. Please review?

**01**

"You've no fucking right!" the girl screamed hysterically, her anger flashing in her eyes. She backed away from him across the street, ignorant of the rest of the world. Overhead the sky was a blackout curtain, trapping in the fluorescent glow of street lamps and illuminated signs. The reverberating music of the nightclub resonated through the ground she stood on. She could still feel its crushing embrace, thumping her ribcage, making it hard for her to breathe. Her ears rang with the distorted sound. Adrenaline and alcohol in her blood fuelled her rage, enticed it until it overrode all other feelings she had ever had for him.

"Stupid bitch!" he roared back righteously, storming after her and reaching to grab her arm. She struggled as his grip pinched her flesh, knowing he was stronger than she was. This girl was no pushover though, she twisted and elbowed him in the neck, making him retch and let go. She moved away again, and then stopped, watching him warily.

"Stay the fucking hell away from me!"

"Shit…" he coughed, placing his hands on his thighs, dropping his head and coughing. He spat to clear his throat, and then shook his head in a vague effort to clear his thoughts. When he looked up again, he ran his eyes over her body with familiarity he perhaps shouldn't have. He'd done so much for her, and this was how she repaid him? He'd wanted her, but now everything about her disgusted him. So then, this was how it was to end…

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Two months earlier 

It was hot, uncomfortably so in the city. Everything was dusty, grey and shimmering in the heat haze. The temperature caused an uneasy insipidness to mask the sounds of normal Cape Town life. It sapped the energy of the people on the streets, like a lioness draining off the life of the antelope fawn she held in her unrelenting jaws. The image shifted, becoming solid, becoming just one more tattoo on the very muscular upper arm of an individual crossing a boulevard in the wrong part of town.

In a white vest mottled with yellow sweat stains and baggy tan-coloured pants, the local man wasn't as uncomfortable as some in the heat. He pushed open the door to the sickly-looking apartment complex with a grunt. Inside as the door closed behind him, he raised his face slightly to feel the ceiling fans blast still-hot air in his direction. He was vilely ugly, reeking of unwashed flesh and with a nose and jaw that had been broken and contorted many times, turning him into a gargoyle of a man. He scratched the stubble on his shaven head as he glanced at a yellowed scrap of paper in his hand. Room 44 was scrawled on it in blue biro. Victoria Building, Room 44. That was where he needed to be. He dropped the piece of paper on the floor and strode over it. His hand drifted to the handgun at his hip. He'd heard that there were mutants around here. He wouldn't let no damned mutant fuck with him.

The two hookers and the couple of putrid old drunks sheltering from the heat of the day in the building's foyer watched the man with the lioness tattoo head for the stairs. They started whispering to each other, rolling their eyes and sucking in breath. All of them had seen his gun and the aggressive way he moved. They quickly reached the conclusion that whatever the ugly tattooed stranger was up to, they did not want to be around to find out. Maybe now was a good time to leave…

He had to engage an infrequently exercised intellect to find the room he was looking for. One gold sticky label number had peeled off the cracked, greasy veneer years ago in the oppressive, malodorous corridor. He had to allow for the fact that the room thus labelled 4 sat between 42 and 46, opposite 43, before reaching for the handle confidently. The door was stiff, but it wasn't locked. No reason it should be, this had all been arranged. A shove of his massive shoulder and he was entering the apartment.

It was pokey, cluttered with ancient mismatched furniture and decorated with stained wallpaper and floorboards. What the stains were he thought best not to worry about. He wasn't naïve, he'd done this a million times before in apartments, houses and hotel rooms just like this one, and frequently worse. Somewhere a fat fly buzzed lazily, probably in its death throws. The ceiling fan was flying round so fast it was swinging violently from its mooring. It too buzzed loudly, yet it made no difference to the smell of stale alcohol and sweat. The curtains, sad baggy brown rags full of holes, sagged over the open window, leaving the room in shallow shade. The tattooed man barely noticed. He was too busy closing the door, and admiring the only attractive fixture in the room.

The girl sprawled unconscious on the sagging grey sofa that was positioned lengthways along the wall at a right angle to the door. Wearing only a white cotton thong and vest combo, her body seemed spread out just for his enjoyment. One hand rested on her chest, the other just about brushed an empty vodka bottle that lay uncapped on the floor. The man took out his silver gun as he stepped a pace forward towards her. Without thinking about it, he flicked off the safety. Her long silky pale legs were closest to him. For some reason known only to his sick mind, he ran the butt of the gun over her ankle, up her calf and stroked the inside of her left thigh with the metal. Not even her eyelids flickered to suggest she was aware of him. The man smiled coldly, a perverse pleasure pleasing him.

There was a noise, making him suddenly look up. Of the two internal doors to the room, one was on the same wall as the sofa, and the other faced it. Both doors were covered with curtains of brown wooden beads on strings that clattered slightly in the breeze from the fan and window. The clattering substantially increased as the curtain opposite the girl was moved out of the way by an arm, and a new figure stepped partially through. The newcomer leant on the doorframe and said nothing, cast in just enough shade to hide any distinguishable features such as eye or hair colour. The tattooed man scowled, unimpressed at the new arrival. Just a skinny kid, he thought to himself as he examined what was little more than a lean silhouette.

The youth looked the older man over with equal distaste and disappointment. Tall and dripping with confidence, his hands shuffled a pack of playing cards with flare. Still he didn't speak, biding his time for the tattooed man to make his play. The girl on the sofa remained unmoving as the ceiling fan continued to whirl pointlessly.

"You the one I'm supposed to meet?" the older man asked his younger counterpart, who nodded slowly in reply. "I was told you gotta load you're trying to get rid of. It isn't your usual game." Again the younger man nodded, but didn't say anything. He just leant on the doorway and shuffled his cards like all this was barely holding his interest. It made the tattooed man irritable, his sweaty palm closing tighter around the silver gun he carried so easily.

"I wouldn't normally take crap like this on, you get me?" he continued. "I'd be doing you a favour, leading the cops away. I'm thinking I should be leaving you to rot…" He paused for effect, and then turned slightly back towards the way he had come in. He hoped he was scaring the kid shitless, but a backwards glance proved that theory incorrect. The kid was a pro, and he was starting to make the tattooed man feel uncomfortable.

"There's no money in drugs if that's what you're thinking. The big guys are too clever to let nobodies like you and me make anything serious," the younger guy just shrugged, unperturbed, making the older man laugh coldly.

"You're a cool one kid, I'll give you that. Listen, I might be able to get twenty for it, if its as good as our mutual friend told me, if there's as much and if the big guys are buying. Those are some big ifs, kid. So make it five for you, fifteen for me, what with me taking all the risks here…" he tailed off, scratching his crotch as a leer swept over his face. "Tell you what, you go back through there and leave me with the bitch here, just for ten minutes, and I'll let you take seven. You can't say fairer than that, hey kid?"

He saw the younger man hesitate for the first time, saw his gaze flick to the girl on the sofa. That was when he knew he had him, and the deal was as good as made.

"C'mon man," the tattooed thug pressed, feeling his own blood rising with the promise of the girl so close. He could almost smell her scent, taste the salt on her skin… "Its not like she isn't asking for it. Ten minutes that's all I want, and I make you a richer man, much richer. So what do you say?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**02**

**1 week earlier**

Head against the windowpane of the aeroplane, the mutant's eyes were closed. The vibrating of the jet engines rumbled through his bones as he tried to sleep but couldn't. The numbness of being drunk toyed with him, muting the sounds of the other travellers around him. His stomach gurgled, discontented with its liquid diet. Stretching out his long legs, he pushed himself back in the seat, straightening out his spine so his pelvis lifted clear of the seat. He would have liked to stretch his arms as well, but he didn't have room on the right hand side because of the window. The seat creaked as he stretched, easing out tense muscles and aching joints.

Next, he rubbed his eyes vigorously with the back of his fists before he opened them. He had to blink for a few moments in the stark cabin lights before his vision cleared. He ran a hand through his mop of unruly chestnut hair, tugging a strand of it down in front of his face to see how long it was. It didn't quite reach his eyes, not yet anyway. He stretched again, this time sat up with his arms raised up above his head. He twisted his neck and waist, letting his gaze flick over the other passengers. Mostly they were sleeping or engrossed in the in-flight entertainment, headphones covering their ears. The cabin crew looked bored, this was after all just work to them. That makes two of us, Gambit thought as he got one of them to serve him another beer, but at least I can get drunk.

The sensation of having eyes watching him made Remy turn around in his seat. Of course soon as he looked round, she looked the other way, pretending she hadn't been watching him in the first place. She turned it on like a leaking tap, walking down the isle like it was a catwalk in her glamorous ochre cowboy boots. Her dark blue denim skirt was almost decent, sort of reaching her thighs. The navy blue skinny t-shirt made much of her ample chest and tiny waist, whilst her chocolate brown belt drew attention to her hips. She swooshed her long red curls over her shoulder, a wicked glint in her big brown eyes as she plummeted feather-like into the empty seat to Gambit's left. He looked her over steadily, shaking his head a little in mock-dismay.

"Your lipstick smudged," the girl glared at him as he spoke, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Not really," he told her, breaking into a grin, "At least it wasn't, eh Cherie?" For his joke he received a thump on his upper arm, and got called a tosser by the English girl. She leaned over him, pulling a lipgloss out of a pocket of her skirt and used the window as a mirror. On the other side of the glass, the plane blundered on in the early morning darkness. It was impossible to tell if they flew over hill or vale, sea, shore or sandy desert. As of yet, dawn was only a blood red glow humming along the equidistant horizon.

"How's your new friend?" Gambit asked the girl cheerily.

"Sated," the girl smirked in reply, leaning back over Gambit and dropping something in his hand as in the same motion she took his beer. "This what you were after?"

"Huh," Gambit laughed soullessly in the back of his throat, His red-irises-on-black-whites eyes sparkling dully at the trophy his partner-in-crime had relieved from her latest victim. Benefits of travelling first class, everyone had a wallet full of company platinum credit cards, just like this one. Better than stealing gold bullion, and a whole lot easier to carry. "You want your own drink Blaze, or you happy stealin' mine?"

"Happy with yours," Blaze smiled, settling back to put her headphones on and turning the volume up on her music so that Gambit too could listen to it. So generous, his Blaze… He shook his head and left her to it, raising an arm to beckon the cabin crewmember with the drinks trolley over one more time.

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Leaving the airport it was obvious they were on another continent. The air was different, more oppressive as they breathed. The varied fragrances of a new place could be both tasted on the tongue and smelt. The sun was mere moments away from bursting over the horizon. They could almost feel the energy, the life, waiting to launch the new day. At that moment that was how Africa felt to them, alive and wild, just like the two of them.

The stolen platinum card had already come in useful. The executive Blaze had fleeced had even been so kind as to scrawl the pin number on a scrap of paper he had in his wallet. Each thief was flush with cash from an airport ATM as they headed to hail a cab into the city. Loaded with bashed about canvass rucksacks and scuffed leather hold-alls over their shoulders, both thieves were visibly laden down. No taxis were waiting as they got to the pick up point, so the two dropped their bags and sat down on them to wait. No other passengers seemed to be struggling for transport; the two were totally alone. Yawning after her exertions, Blaze stretched a little, then rested her head against Gambit's shoulder.

Gambit smiled, enjoying Blaze's warmth against his arm and her perfume mingling with the sweet dawn air. He didn't move to put his arm round her or try to embrace her. It wasn't that kind of relationship and he doubted it ever would be. Instead he let her lean for only a few minutes, before shrugging her off in a motion that buffeted his body against hers. She groaned softly, an alluring noise, then pulled away from him. As their eyes met, neither could comprehend the hunger in the eyes of the other.

Blaze opened her mouth to start a conversation, but was cut off by a scuffling sound in the indistinguishable middle distance. Both mutants turned round, eyes scanning the darkness, looking for trouble. They didn't have to wait long. A figure was thrown from the blackness behind a building, to land face down on the concrete about fifty feet away from Gambit and Blaze. Two much larger figures loomed up behind the fallen individual. As Blaze and Gambit watched, they started to kick the hell out of the person on the ground. The kicks landed on bone and soft tissue, filling the outlandish smelling air with the sickening sound of flesh being tenderised.

Then something bizarre happened. A crackling field of blue light formed itself around the victim. At first Gambit thought he was imagining it, and tried to blink the lights away. Instead of disappearing the light grew stronger, until the victim glowed with electric blue lightning. The attackers, blinded by blood lust, hardly seemed to notice that their victim was changing before their eyes. Gambit had seen enough. The mutant needed help, and he was the man to give it to them. He lurched to his feet, knocking over his bags, and tugged a deck of cards from his trench coat pocket. Fifty feet was nothing, he could easily take both thugs out from here. Remy found himself relishing the image of destruction he was about to cause.

"Rem, no," Blaze grabbed his arm just below his elbow, tugging back to stop him throwing a card. He glanced at her, the card glowing at his fingertips, lighting her pretty face with an orange-fuchsia glow. "I've got a bad feeling about this. Please, don't lets get involved?"

"Dat mutant need my help," Gambit told her sternly, shaking his arm free. "So did you, once." Blaze fell silent and bit her lip. Gambit's cards zoomed through the air one after the other like flaming arrows. The first one struck, taking off an attacker's hand in a shatter of light, flesh and noise. Remy's overconfidence and the distance made him miss the second, the card falling short as it exploded.

The man he'd struck fell to his knees and cried out in pain. He clutched the stub of his arm where his hand had been with his other hand, trying to quench the bleeding. Blood welled up through his remaining fingers and ran from his elbow. The second man shook his head as the rush of air and flash of light from the explosions abated. He looked directly at Gambit and drew out a gun. Gambit grabbed Blaze and pushed her to the ground, falling on top of her as the first bullet ripped through the air overhead. Ignoring her protestations Remy rolled away, getting to his knees and charging another card.

Before the gunman could fire another bullet, Gambit had a card away. It caught the man on his shoulder, knocking him backwards as his finger squeezed the trigger reflexively. A second crack echoed through the air as the man slumped to the floor. Gambit felt a weight hit his back and he hit the ground rolling. He ended up in a tangled heap with a flushed-looking Blaze. She'd returned the favour of pushing him down out of harm's way as the gun went off for the second time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**03**

Carefully the friends detached themselves from so uncomfortable a close proximity. Gambit risked a small smile as they parted, which Blaze returned slyly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her bejewelled left ear. She got to her feet first, pushing herself up from Gambit's shoulder. He almost reached out to grab her trailing hand, but his self-control kicked in just in time. Best not to, she'd shot him down before. Only reason he'd got away with it was because she'd thought he was blind drunk. Beside there were more pressing things to worry about.

"Merci," he thanked her as he stood too, to which she replied "De rein," meaning you're welcome. Blaze let him precede her to where the men and the fallen mutant were.

The man with no hand was still on his knees sobbing. His associate had lost a shark bite like chunk of flesh from his shoulder, as well as part of his head. Consequentially he was dead. Remy had not been playing with these guys. The one with no hand looked up sniffing as Blaze came to hover over him. She lashed out with a kick that broke his nose and slammed his head back onto the concrete with a sickening thwack. More blood ran from the back of his head. Blaze would always rather kick or punch someone than try and call up on her erratic and dangerous mutation. A pyrokenetic who refused to use her powers, sometimes they still managed to overwhelm her, leaving her exhausted and people dead. People like her parents for example.

Gambit went to the strange mutant, who lay face down and unmoving, but still shimmering with an electric blue light. Gambit took a breath, then reached out to roll the mutant over. Almost immediately the light faded and he was barely zapped by whatever electric power flowed through her. She was, in the new dawn light, attractive. Yet it was oppositely to the way Blaze was beautiful. Startlingly unfeminine, except for her lips that promised to be full and succulent when they weren't purple and bleeding. Her hair was short cropped and electric blue, her body long, lean and flexible.

Quickly he checked her injuries. She had been lucky, suffering little more than a heavy bruising and a few knocks to the skull. Although no medic, Remy was confident she'd live. There was an obvious reason why the mutant had not been able to defend herself. Even with her electrical powers jumping to be used, she could not focus them to be anything more than the strange blue haze. This was because even now her white, talon-like hands were clutched to her buxom, holding desperately onto a brown paper package.

"Sod this," said Blaze softly, more to herself than her partner. "I'm going nicking a car. No point trying to stay under the police radar anymore mon Ami."

Gambit didn't reply. He had successfully prised the package from the unconscious mutant's grasp. Slowly he slid a finger under an edge of the paper and peeled it back.

"Que'est-ce qu'il y a?" Blaze breathed from over his shoulder, asking what's the matter. Seeing what Gambit lifted up to show her, she rolled her eyes and moved away. Her words dripped with sarcasm as she left to rustle up some transportation. "Oh bravo Rem, you've rescued a frigging druggie."

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**One week later**

"What do you say?"

As the tattooed man finished speaking, he felt something narrow and hard press against his groin. He glanced down, and then snarled at a vicious looking flick knife held against him right where the main artery pumped under the skin between groin and thigh.

"Drop the gun and kick it away," a female voice spat in his ear. He had no choice but to do as he was told. The knife had already slit his clothing and was scratching his skin. The gun slid across the floor and lodged under a chest of drawers.

"What do you want?" he growled, trying to twist round enough so he could see who his attacker was.

"You shut the fuck up and listen," she told him, pulling the knife away again in a sweeping motion. "Go sit down over there, now, and tell us your name." The tattooed man moved as suggested across the room to an empty seat on a rickety dining chair. His progress took him even further away from his gun. He had to turn round to sit down, getting his first glimpse of the young woman. It was not the one who'd been 'unconscious' on the sofa. She was sat up now, leaning forward with her elbows on her lap. Her sculpted blue hair made her face almost too thin. She looked up, fixing the tattooed man with vivid blue eyes, too vivid to be normal. Blue lighting played over her hands. Mutants, he swore mentally, he should have pissing known.

"Henrick," he replied finally, looking up at the one with the knife. Like the blue haired one, there was something not normal about her too. Her long red curls hung down her back, whilst her brown eyes judged him wickedly. She too was attractive, and not wearing much more than her blue haired counterpart. A black strapless top, black hot pants and black stiletto heels made up her outfit. She made no suggestion as to her freak's power.

Henrick's eyes flicked to the youth by the doorway. Not one of these kids was over twenty, he'd bet good money on it. From his new seat light fell differently on the youth. Henrick inhaled sharply, and the youth smiled, red-on-black eyes lighting up with mirth. The cards he shuffled started to glow round the edges and the hairs on the back of Henrick's arms started to tingle.

"We need a mule Henrick, and you're it," the redhead approached him, finely scratching his throat with the tip of the knife. "You'll approach Fallon with the deal, and arrange to trade in two days. Come back here at noon that day to collect the merchandise. You'll make the trade at his den and bring the money to us."

"What's in it for me?" Henrick wanted to know. He flinched despite himself as the girl slammed the knife point-down into the wood of the seat, right between his legs.

"You get to stay intact, Henrick," she crooned. "But if you're a very good boy, I'm sure my friend and I could…repay you."

She wasn't talking about financial remuneration. Henrick swallowed. Mutants, he thought, damn it they're not on the same planet as the rest of us… He nodded, understanding everything. After they showed him the door, he stood outside breathing heavily for a few moments, waiting for the throbbing of his blood to abate. Fucking mutants, they'd had him sussed all along. He'd try and fleece Satan himself to stick it to a pretty girl or two. Come to think of it, to approach Fallon he might as well approach the Devil himself…


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**04**

None of the three mutants so much as moved until they heard Henrick stomp away down the hall. Only when he'd gone did the blue haired girl Gambit had rescued at the airport burst into a cackle of shrill laughter. Her name was Electra, and this was pretty much all her plan. Blaze and Gambit had embellished it here and there, but Electra had done everything else. It was to be her revenge in her ex-boyfriend, the big-time dealer Fallon. The one who'd had Electra steal the drugs back from airport customs after one of his mules got caught with them. It was Fallon who had ordered his cronies to beat her to death when she refused to hand over the drugs for free.

"Where did you drag Henrick up from Electra?" Blaze asked wearily. "What a bleeding loser."

"Doesn't matter sweetheart," Electra crooned, standing and going to the chest of drawers where the drugs were stashed. "All that matters is that Fallon doesn't know I know about him, and that Henrick will do as he's told." She untied the plastic membrane and put her hand in the bag, sliding her fingers between the smooth white tablets. "You know I'm so grateful to you two…"

"Sod off," Blaze told her, "Some of us are only in this for the money." Her judgemental gaze fell on Gambit, who met her eyes levelly and refused to be abashed. Blaze couldn't force him to feel guilty about being interested in another girl. She'd had enough chances to voice an interest in him like that. Blaze and Electra had been verbally sparring since the fire elemental had spotted the mutual appreciation between Gambit and Electra. So far neither dynamic had matured into anything more, but there was time.

"You're a bitter slut," Electra chastised Blaze. "Tell me again why you pretend you're a mutant?"

"Fuck you," Blaze swore. "Tell me again why you pretend to be a woman?"

"You're funny," Electra wasn't laughing. "Jealous much?"

"I'm going out," Blaze ignored the last comment and headed for the door.

"Pourquoi?" Gambit asked, leaning up off the doorframe. Blaze rolled her eyes at him, replying, "Because I want to have some real fun."

"You don't have the guts for some real fun," Electra butted in. She put the plastic bag down again and held out her palm. There were three pills in a cloverleaf arrangement in the centre of her upturned hand. Watching Blaze's face carefully, Electra picked up a pill between finger and thumb and popped it into her mouth.

"Loser," Blaze commented, heading for the door again. "Coward," Electra returned spitefully, going over to Remy. "Bet you're up for it Gambit?" Blaze turned back once more to see Electra put a pill on her tongue, then step into Gambit's waiting arms. Electra raised her face to his, running her hands over his chest and shoulders. Wrapping her fingers around the back of his neck she guided his lips to hers. The kiss was comprehensive and lingering. Blaze winced as she saw Gambit's throat working, indicating he'd swallowed the drug. Sarcasm was fluid on her tongue as she commented, "Oh please…"

"Scared honey?" Electra had one pill left in her hand and she wasn't about to let Blaze leave without taking it. Her other hand thrummed with a fistful of mutant power. Blaze folded her arms across her chest as Electra encroached upon her personal space. "Coward," Electra spat again. "Loser. Sad pathetic baby girl with no man to call your own." The bating was working, Blaze dropped her fists to her sides where she clenched them furiously, squaring up shoulder to shoulder with the other girl.

"Bite me Electra," Blaze snapped, "I'm no coward."

"Prove it," Electra dared, opening her mouth and placing the last pill on her red tongue. Maybe it was because they had all been drinking most of the day. Maybe it was because she just couldn't stand to be beaten. Or maybe it was the sheer force of Gambit's will that made Blaze kiss Electra.

Electra gripped Blaze by the upper arms and kissed the other girl back forcefully. Blaze felt her arms tingle and then painfully spasm as Electra zapped her with her powers. She shoved her tongue into Electra's maw, searching for the pill to end this madness. Across the room, a slack-jawed Gambit grinned and swore he would never, ever forget this!

Blaze shoved Electra away with a solid push on her shoulders. In a show of triumph, she stuck out her dainty tongue on which rested the drug. Then she closed her mouth and visibly swallowed, raising her chin to show her throat working. Electra cackled again, fulfilling Blaze's earlier challenge and caressing Blaze's earlobe with her teeth. Gambit cleared his throat, jealous at being excluded by the girls. Blaze ducked out from Electra's dubious affections and backed away until she had the door handle in her palm behind her back. "Now I'm definitely going," she decreed.

"You don't have to Chere," Remy pointed out. Blaze shook her head, "Staying here and listening to you two getting amorous is not on my to-do list."

"You could join in," Electra shrugged, batting her eyelashes in Blaze's direction before glancing at Gambit to get his approval. Even drunk and with whatever chemicals were in the pill on the verge of entering his system, he kept his face blank at the suggestion of sleeping with Blaze.

"You kiss like a washing machine Electra," Blaze drawled. "Its not a turn on," she glanced at Gambit, "For me anyway."

"Fine," Electra was still arguing, hands on her hips. "But what about Gambit? You're not in the least bit tempted?"

So that was what this was all about, Blaze realised. Not only did Electra want to beat Blaze at everything just to prove she was a better mutant, thief and general wild child. She also wanted to make sure she had no rival for Gambit's affections. As if, Blaze thought sincerely, a cop would probably have a better chance. Gambit's cold expression, totally emotionless, said it all. It would never happen. Might as well make it appear as if it was her choice.

"Ha," she laughed sharply, almost nervously, "I wouldn't sleep with Gambit if he was the last man alive and the fate of the known universe depended on me having his children. See you both tomorrow." With that she slammed the door behind her, leaving Gambit looking more than mildly affronted. She was halfway down the street before she actually swallowed the drug in her mouth. Blow it, she cursed mentally, time to have some real fun.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**A/N:** Please read and review?

**05**

The drug knocked Blaze for six, lying on her back in Cape Town's botanical gardens under a spectacular monkey-puzzle tree. Then as her hypermetabolism burned the drug off quicker than normal, she hit a fast food joint to quench a desire for greasy meat. She decided that it just wasn't for her, not liking the gaps in her usually formidable memory where this afternoon should have been. I'll stick to getting pissed, she thought, and there's no time like the present.

Blaze hit the bars and clubs of Cape Town several hours after she'd left the apartment. A few more hours passed, fuelled by the more familiar attributes of alcohol and dancing, even flirting when someone caught her eye. Her feet were sore and blistered, her stomach protesting, and she knew it would be time to call it a night soon. Blaze was heading to the rest room with a bottle of water in her hand to purge her stomach before she even dared going near a taxi, when a man stepped across her path.

"Gimme your purse," he threatened, his features obscured by the flashing nightclub lights. Blaze weighed him up as he backed her into a tight corner. He was much bigger than she was. Then again so were most people. Calmly she placed her bottle of water on a convenient ledge and pulled her purse out of her hot pants' pocket. What type of idiot mugs someone at the end of the night when the money's all spent, she thought, sensing her moment.

"Here you go," she held out the purse eagerly, watching her attacker's eyes fall on the item and not stay on her. With a grunt and a flick of her wrist she lobbed the purse skyward ferociously. The distraction worked as the thug looked up and Blaze leapt in to snap-kick him under the jaw with her right foot. She finished him off with a roundhouse kick below the belt, and then picked up her bottle of water. As she looked round for her purse the attacker slumped to the floor and lay still.

"I think this is yours," Blaze accepted her purse back from the speaker with a dazzling smile of thanks. He was a little older than her and a little taller. His jaw was square-set in a slightly angular face, accentuating a pleasantly muscled body. His surfer dude spiky and sun-bleached blond hair, tanned skin and surfer-chic clothes indicated an athletic but laid-back individual. Blaze still probably wouldn't have looked twice at him if it hadn't been for his eyes. Though clear and blue, they were not innocent. His eyes weighed her up just as she examined him, considering her with a darkness few people had. Darkness that attracted Blaze like a moth to a candle and made Cape Town suddenly a more interesting place to be.

"I thought I might have to come to your rescue," he started, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. "Looks like I was wrong."

"I can take care of myself," Blaze replied not quite sharply.

"You're not from round here are you?"

"What was your first clue?" Blaze chuckled in her English accent, making him smile too. "I'm a student," she lied casually, "Just taking some time out to travel."

"You should be careful," he warned her sincerely. "Cape Town can be dangerous for a woman on her own."

"Name me a city that isn't," Blaze shrugged. "Thank you for the warning, its good to know there are decent folk here too."

"Look," he said carefully, producing an old receipt and a stubby pencil from one of his combat pants' many pockets. "This is gonna sound really lame, but my name's Lance and this is my number. You get stuck for anything while you're in town, gimme a call okay?"

"Uh-huh," Blaze agreed sceptically, but with a sweet smile anyway. "Thanks."

Lance gulped as the feisty redhead brushed his fingers with hers as she took his number. As she walked past him his eyes followed her until he lost her in the crowded room. Only then did he swear profusely, eyes rolling back in his skull, "Hell!"

"What's up lover boy?" his partner Gus laughed in his deep baritone. The big black man shook his dread locked head as he saw the thug on the floor.

"Damn, I didn't even get her name," Lance cursed, grinning at his friend.

"You're supposed to be working," laughed Gus, steering Lance away by the shoulder. "Just 'cause we're under cover doesn't mean we get to chat up the laydees, Officer Hozack."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**A/N:** Please read and review?

**06**

All was quiet when just after dawn Blaze returned to the apartment currently called home. She ditched her biting shoes, her purse and Lance's phone number in her room, and then went to take a shower. Someone else had had the same idea though, the door was locked and the enticing patter of water could be heard on the other side. Sighing she turned and went to peek around the door to Gambit's room to find out who was hogging the bathroom.

"Bon matin," she chirruped breezily when she saw it was Remy on his own in the bed. He glared at her through bleary eyes, making her laugh. "Wanna coffee?" Remy nodded so Blaze went and brewed up promptly. With the two mugs steaming on the rickety bedside table, Blaze perched on the edge of the mattress and inhaled the delicious caffeine smell.

"Good night Cherie?" Gambit asked her, reclining against the misshapen bedding bare-chested. It was highly likely he was naked under the sheets, but Blaze was trying very hard not to notice.

"Comme ci comme ca," Blaze denounced flippantly, tucking her feet up under her and leaning back on one hand. "Et tu?"

"Bon," Gambit grinned, stretching his arms out and cricking his neck. "Oui, tres bon."

"You're an arse," Blaze told him, meeting his eyes levelly. "Too much frigging detail, as usual."

"You talkin' weird again mon belle Petite," he chastised her.

"Sez you!" Blaze laughed, illustrating his point. "Its only coz I'm knackered, I've just come over all broad… Its about time I taught you some Northern English anyway."

"I don't t'ink I wanna learn," Remy protested with a smile that would have made a nun blush.

"Its easy, just repeat after me," Blaze giggled. "Hey up our kid, wots hap'nin'?"

"Hey up what?" Gambit leant forward, pressing his thigh against hers through the sheet and brushing her hand with his. "What the hell dat mean?"

"Um, I think I'm too tired to translate," Blaze flopped over to lie on her back diagonally across the bed. "Do you think the ceiling was meant to be that colour?"

Gambit twisted, lying back down and moving round so he was nearer Blaze. Blaze herself arched her body up for a moment so he could reposition the covers to his satisfaction. When she settled again, she found her head cushioned by his upper arm comfortably. At the opposite side of the bed their bare feet touched accidentally, but didn't rebound in distaste.

"Non," Gambit replied after a few moments considering the ceiling. "Nobody got dat poor taste."

"Even you?" Blaze teased in mock-shock. Gambit didn't deign to reply. Instead he just kicked her in the ankle with his bare foot. "Oi!" Blaze grumbled, kicking back herself and laughing. "Git! Give it up!"

"Or what?" Gambit challenged, dragging his arm out from under her head. He lifted himself up and rolled again, putting an arm on Blaze's far side to support himself on. He looked down at her, filling her field of vision, as Blaze wrapped her leg around one of his now-exposed calves to stop him from kicking her again.

"Or I'll knock you out like I did some bloke earlier who tried to mug me," Blaze giggled. "I don't think he knew what hit him."

"You get in a fight Little One?" Remy's joking abruptly dissipated and he met Blaze's eyes seriously. She squirmed, looking away across the bed to her left, looking anywhere but at him in case he knew just how compromised he had her then.

"Only a small one, that's good going for me," she couldn't help it, she looked at him. The world stopped turning as for a heartbeat there was only the two of them. His eyes explored hers, looking for any clue as to what she was thinking. Blaze wasn't thinking at all. She was lost in his scent, his warmth, his strength as he held himself so close to her that she could feel his pulse. She could feel more than that of his through the sheet. A blush crept over her skin and her lips parted in a delicate gasp. Gambit dropped his face to hers as both of them let their eyelids flicker closed.

"Remy! How could you?" Electra screeched like the brakes on a train. Remy remembered who and where he was, lurching upright and turning to protest his innocence to the girl he'd spent the night with. Blaze turned her face away and swore under her breath, but still loud enough for Remy to hear. He looked from one girl to the other, the one he wanted and the one he'd had. The one it would be dangerous to get involved with and the one it would be foolish to let slip through his fingers at this stage in a crime.

"Jennifer it ain't what it look like…" he protested weakly to the young woman bristling with static in the doorway.

"First name terms already?" Blaze asked snappily, climbing off the bed and walking round to pick up her coffee. Remy felt the barb more keenly than Electra ever could, that was for sure. He had no idea what Blaze's real name was. Just one more thing she didn't trust him with, not that he could blame her. Not when he did things like this to her. "Move bitch," Blaze ordered the bath-robed Electra hotly. "Unless you want to be doused in hot coffee?"

"That the best threat you can come up with?" Electra snarled, raising a blue thunderbolt trapped in her fist, ready to strike Blaze down.

"Jennifer please, come back to bed Cherie," Gambit begged, sitting over the edge of the bed. "Blaze, elle ne rein de particulier…" meaning, "She's nothing special!"

"Whatever," spat Blaze, shaking her head and sidling round Electra who went to Remy. The redhead left the room with her mind made up. If Gambit didn't want her, she'd damn well find someone who did. The clock on the wall touching five am didn't stop her from reaching for the phone and the receipt with Lance's number on. It rang for a few seconds and then clicked onto his voicemail.

"Hey this is Lance, leave a message," the recording cut out and the tone bleeped. Blaze took a breath and did as she was told.

"Hi Lance, how's it going? If you're interested, I'll be at the club again tonight. Maybe we could meet up? I'll see you there."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**A/N:** Please read and review?

**07**

"It's no good, Fallon's way too clever," Lance griped for the millionth time that afternoon. "I swear he must be psychic or something. He always knows when we've got a stakeout planned."

"Its more likely he's got someone keeping tabs on us," the more practically minded Gus pointed out. "Give it a rest man, you've still got hours 'til your date."

"Its not a date," Lance cut in. "How can it be a date when I don't even know her name? She just told me where she'd be, that's all. She might not even be there."

"So our mystery lady rang you at five am to let you know where she wouldn't be tonight?" Gus pointed out. They were driving their unmarked patrol car through the city streets, Gus behind the wheel. Lance, shades on and seat so far back he was almost horizontal, had never looked so uncomfortable to his colleague. The unflappable Lance Hozack, squirming over some pretty chick, was excellent theatre. "Still as your partner I have to tell you that I flat out refuse to carry your lazy ass tomorrow after you've been out having fun on a school night."

"Gee thanks for the support man," Lance rolled his eyes. "So how does the boss expect us to nail Fallon anyway?"

"Who knows," Gus speculated in good humour, "Maybe your new girlfriend could help?"

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She was leant against the wall, head back, hand out holding a bottle of Bud. Wisely she had her thumb over the top to stop anyone dropping date-rape substances in it. She didn't look tired after the night before. In fact she looked ready for another night of the same, dressed to kill and eyes full of mischievous intent. Lance wished he felt the same. She'd probably slept all day, where as he'd been in work all day after only a few hours sleep in the morning. Still he'd known the hours would eat into his social life when he'd signed up to the police. There was nothing for it but to pop some more caffeine pills and try and have his cake and eat it. She smiled when she saw him, drained her beer and came forward to meet him.

"I'm glad you came," she said over the volume of the music, "Come dance with me?"

"Wait," he replied, holding up his hands to stop her. "I don't even know your name."

"Maybe I'll tell you if you're good," she teased, taking one of his in hers. Her palm was warm and smooth, her slender fingers interlocked with his. Lance shook his head as she started to lead him towards the nearest dance floor. He planted his feet firmly and held onto her hand tight. Casually he swung her around again until she faced him once more.

"Maybe you'll tell me now, and then I don't have to pretend to be good?"

This time when she smiled it was a much darker expression, tainted with something close to intrigue. Somehow it seemed more honest, less forced. She'd been toying with him before, Lance realised. Now he'd taken that small thing into his own hands he'd become interesting to her. She came to him willingly, and let him take her other hand too.

"Its Ella," Blaze lied, once more falling back on old form, "Now can we go dance?"

"Well I could murder a beer…" Lance teased, glancing towards the bar. Blaze laughed and took her date onto the dance floor determinedly. You never know, she pondered, this might even be fun. Hold the phone vote Gambit; you've got some serious competition.

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"What time is it?" Lance asked as they staggered to the bar again many drinks and four blistered feet later.

"Its only early Cinderella," Blaze laughed, looping her fingers through his belt and shaking back her curls flirtatiously.

"I have work tomorrow," he admitted shamefully. "We can't all be students and travel the world you know."

"So call in sick," she suggested as he ordered two more bottles Bud as a last drink of the night.

"I wish I could," Lance refuted her plea. "Ella I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," Blaze took her beer and saluted him with it. "Cheers." Lance echoed her and they both drank. Arms around each other and beers in hand they wandered to the exit and out onto the street. They finished their drinks sat on a curb waiting for a taxi. Blaze leant against Lance's shoulder. He put his arm around her as she lifted her face to his. They kissed quickly, then more deeply, drinking in their fill of each other's taste. Lance stoked her cheek, held her close and kissed her again. Blaze pressed her body against his and swore to herself that for tonight this was not the end. Her mind was made up even before the taxi came to a stop and they climbed in.

"Where do you want dropping off?" Lance asked, holding her hand and gazing deeply into her big brown eyes.

"How about your place?" Blaze replied coyly.

"Shit," Lance was shocked, "You don't move slow, do you?"

"Life's too short," Blaze answered honestly. She knew that better than most people. "It's your call Lance." In response he kissed her again, harder this time, He'd be an idiot not to.

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Lance woke the next morning later than he would have liked to for work. Still he lay in bed a little longer, watching the redhead next to him breathing in and out, right there on the pillow. He felt elated, unleashed and free. When she finally opened her eyes and her face lit up with a smile, it was as though the sun had just lurched over the horizon. He stroked a curl away from her cheek and kissed her soundly.

"Go back to sleep," he told her. "I'll wake you before I leave."

"You're not throwing me out?" she mumbled, yawning and nestling closer to him.

"I'll trust you," he joked. "If and when you leave, the door will lock itself behind you. Stay as long as you want okay? Bathroom's through there," he indicated with a finger. "There might be some food before its use by date in the refrigerator. Just promise me one thing?"

"What?" she asked hazily, stroking his chest hair with one hand.

"That you'll let me take you out to dinner tonight?"

Blaze frowned for a second. Today was a big day for her too; she also had to go to work. She never liked making plans for after a job, it seemed like tempting fate for something to go bad. Then make sure they don't go bad, she chastised herself. "Sure," she smiled. "Leave directions before you go, make sure I can find it? I'm going to have to go home at some point to change."

Lance grinned and nodded. They embraced again, fondling each other's lips, pressing naked flesh together. Then he got up and left her, returning only briefly to make sure she was sleeping before going to work. As the door slammed behind him, Blaze opened her eyes and pushed herself out of the bed. It was time for her to get to work too.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**A/N:** Apologies for the delay in posting, but I had a berevement in my close family that knocked me for six a little. Thank you so much to all the kind reviewers who flooded my inbox with wonderful messages in the few weeks I have been away, I am very grateful. Please read and review?

**08**

"Where have you been?" Electra hissed as Blaze walked into the apartment mere minutes before Henrick was due. "And why are you wearing a guy's t-shirt?" If Gambit had given the impression he wasn't interested in Blaze's arrival, he suddenly was at the mention of her new clothing. His head snapped up from looking at the table where he had been checking the drugs for Fallon. He scowled at Blaze, who blanked both him and Electra as she diligently tied a knot in the offending t-shirt to stop it from drowning her. It was blue-grey, printed with a stylised surfer motif.

"Dat ain't mine," Remy growled, making both girls pull their faces at him. "Who…" The door opening for Henrick stopped his question. Quickly Gambit tipped the drugs to rest on the scales they'd 'borrowed' for this purpose.

"What time are you meeting Fallon?" Blaze asked the brute of a man by way of a greeting.

"At one, half a mile from here. You want me to come back here with the money?"

"What did you think we were going to do, follow you?" Blaze smiled darkly. "You can see what it weighs, it's a fair deal. You'd better get going." Henrick nodded and took the goods. They waited until he'd gone down the hall again before Gambit tossed Blaze a mobile, which she caught with a flourish. He had three words for her, "Don't lose him."

"Don't leave anything for the police to find," Blaze returned. "I'll call you. Number on redial?"

"Oui," Remy affirmed. Blaze grabbed a rucksack from behind the sofa and jogged out of the door.

"Well," Electra crooned, hooking an arm around Gambit's waist. "Maybe she does have her uses. Are you sure she's not going to fuck this up?"

"Lay off her Cherie," Gambit pushed Electra away. "I trained her, she's good. Let her do her job, we gotta do ours, non?"

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"Hello…" Lance mumbled, sitting up straighter in his seat. "What's Henrick up to?"

"No idea," Gus replied as both cops watched the mule stride single-mindedly across the street. He hadn't seen them. Henrick rarely saw beyond the end of his own nose. Lance glanced about. There were few people on the streets; it was too hot. A blonde sat on a wall talking into her mobile. Something about her seemed familiar, but she had her face turned away from the cops so Lance couldn't be sure.

"Park up," he suggested to Gus. "I think we need to take a closer look."

"You bet," Gus affirmed, turning the wheel and taking the unmarked car down a side street. When they walked back around to the main road, the blonde was gone.

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"Regardez," Blaze instructed Gambit over the phone as the Cajun and Electra finally took up their places. The 'blonde' had abandoned her wall at the first sign of the cop car and had instead climbed onto the roof of a nearby building to watch proceedings. Henrick had done a rather limited sweep of the area and was moving into where they could only presume Fallon was waiting. Of course the cops had started to swarm the area. The original unmarked patrol car must have sensed something big and called for backup. "I see," Gambit breathed. "Cops everywhere, he got 'bout t'ree ways outta there with that cash, providing they don't blow it an' raid before its done."

"It not about three, its exactly three," Blaze corrected. "Alley to the back right as you're looking at it, the flats and the fire escape to your left, and the junction up the street."

"You were right," Electra grumbled, "She is good."

"Take the junction," Gambit told Blaze. "We'll cover the alley an' the flats. He gotta bring that money to one o' us." He hung up and put the phone away. Across the rooftops he could see the blonde-haired Blaze move to climb down again. The disguise had enabled her to track Henrick thus far without being noticed. Gambit and Electra also moved to street level, splitting up to cover the escape routes. Gambit couldn't help himself as he passed the car in the side street. It may have been unmarked, but it still screamed police, especially in this neighbourhood. A finger traced down the paintwork made the vicinity throb and glow. Then with a pop and a crackle the traced line exploded leaving a black and silver tear in the fabric of the car's chassis. Gambit allowed himself a thin smile, but barely looked back. Time to earn a livin', n'est-ce pas?

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Henrick withstood the humiliation of Fallon's bodyguards groping him to make sure he didn't have a weapon. For once he was unarmed, he would have been stupid to have a gun here. Every step he took into the lion's den was a step made with borrowed time. At any moment these brutes could shoot him, take the drugs and no one would care. Henrick swallowed hard. He had to hope they were in a generous mood, Fallon especially.

Finally admitted past the bouncers in the door, Henrick followed a stooge through Fallon's building. There were a lot of people here, though most of them were not in any state to be a threat to him. A young girl, maybe seventeen, ebony skinned and her long black hair in braids, sat barefoot on the floorboards. Her skinny feet were so shrivelled that the veins stood out from the tops. The needle punctured one with no difficulty, her eyes rolling back in her head as she depressed the plunger on the syringe and injected the heroin. Henrick was fascinated in much the same way as he had been with the blue-haired mutant chick. The girl wouldn't know, wouldn't have a fucking clue what he did to her…

The stooge cleared his throat and spat impatiently on the floor. Henrick remembered what he was doing and scurried along to catch up. Fallon was sat counting notes with his close circle at a rickety wooden table. They were all smoking, drinking and laughing in a room where the windows had been shoddily boarded up. A guard with a semi-automatic machine gun stood against the back wall, and all the men carried guns. Henrick hadn't arranged the trade with Fallon himself, everything was done through 'mutual friends'. It didn't mean that Henrick had difficulties working out who Fallon was. Fallon was one of a kind, a mutant.

A monster of a man, Fallon was almost seven feet tall. His hawk-like eyes were piercingly acute and unpleasant to have rest on you. His tanned skin was almost exactly the same shade as his shoulder-length wispy chestnut hair. Yet none of these things, or his smarmy too-handsome face, mattered when looking at the mutant. His ten-foot spanning eagle's wings, brown with yellow and white primaries, tended to dominate the view. On close inspection, his fingers were tipped with black claws, talons. He turned his head as a hawk might, to gaze unblinking at the intruder with yellow eyes. Henrick gulped, and then steeled himself like the idiot he was and foolishly stepped forward.

"I'll take that," one of Fallon's circle snatched the drugs out of Henrick's hand. Henrick tried to protest, but the man armed with the machine gun shook his head solemnly, patting his weapon. Henrick stood still again. All went quiet. Somewhere behind him in the building someone was retching violently. Henrick could smell the vomit and bile from here. He could smell other things too as he flared his nostrils and kept his mouth shut. Smoke from tobacco and marijuana, sweat from men who hadn't washed, blood, urine and faeces. Corpses emptied their bowels and bladders after death. That sickly sweat death smell was here too, and Henrick wondered who they had under the floorboards. Was it the last man to try and sell them such a paltry offering? He swallowed again as the drugs he'd brought were poured onto a digital scales diligently. All attention was on the figures it produced.

After an age, the scales settled. No one said anything still as one of the circle picked up one of the pills and did as Electra had done, resting the tablet on his tongue. He looked thoughtful, holding the tablet there a few moments. Then he took it back in between his fingers, and rubbed it between his forefinger and thumb until it crumbled. Only then did he turn to Fallon and give him the nod. Henrick let out a slow sigh of relief. It was going to be okay after all. The questions that remained was how much they would pay him, and whether he wanted to keep it, or spend it on a couple of mutant whores with delusions of grandeur.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**A/N:** Please read and review?

**09**

Lance and his fellow police officers watched as the endoscope camera was passed through a gap in the boards that covered the drug den's rear windows. Thermal imaging had placed a large number of people in there, including one that seemed to have wings stretching out from his back. Lance was itching to get going, to kick the boards down and dive in there with all guns blazing. Next to him to the left, Gus shifted from foot to foot, cradling his gun. The image from the camera flickered up on the palmtop screen Lance held. You've got sloppy Fallon, Lance thought, you've got no one watching outside, and now we've caught you red-handed. Your own arrogance has let you down.

With that poetic thought, all hell broke loose. In an instant the police were at their most vulnerable, as they announced their presence by kicking down the boards and dropping into the room. Fallon's men opened fire fractionally first. The cop on Lance's right side took a bullet to the stomach and dropped screaming. Lance and Gus launched a volley of bullets as the other cops also returned fire. Furniture was overturned as Fallon's men dived behind the makeshift barricades. Drugs and cash scattered through the air. Lance bellowed for cover fire, and then took a risk to take out the man with the machine gun. He felt the movement of the air as a bullet passed close by his arm, but he couldn't afford to think about it. Then he was face to face with Fallon, and everything went quiet.

Not for long, as Fallon flung out his wings, raised his arms and escaped upwards through a ceiling void and out into the open air. He left the carnage that had been his close circle without a backwards glance. Once clear and in the air, Fallon's eagle eyes spotted someone running away from the building carrying a black satchel. Fallon let loose a screech of raptor anger, folded his wings and plummeted towards his betrayer.

Henrick had snatched up the payment as soon as it was offered to him, and started to back away. When the police crashed into the room he was already near the door. He turned and unashamedly ran, cradling the cash to his chest. Head down, he winced as he heard Fallon's vengeance screech, and tried to run faster. He could hear the air whistling through the primaries of Fallon's wings. Henrick couldn't escape, there was just nowhere to run. The weight of the massive mutant striking his back knocked Henrick to his knees. Fallon's taloned hands scratched for Henrick's eyes. Henrick yelped, throwing himself forwards onto his belly to protect his face. The satchel with the money was lost, having fallen out of his grasp when Fallon first struck him.

There was a hiss and a whistle through the air, followed by a resounding bang. Debris, heat and light struck the two squabbling criminals. That got Fallon's attention. Gambit charged another card as the eagle-like man drew himself off the bloodied Henrick by a few flaps of his fantastic wings. He eyed Gambit sharply, but Remy didn't bat an eyelid. Fallon unleashed another keen of fury as he saw what was in Gambit's other hand. It was the black satchel with Fallon's money in it. Smelling a rat, the winged mutant launched himself, taloned hands outstretched as Remy. Gambit drew his arm and shoulder back behind his body, before thrusting forwards again to throw the card between his fingers. The card arched magnificently through the air to hit Fallon in the shoulder and left wing. The birdman was knocked off-kilter, blood dripping from the gaping wounds as he screamed and the air was filled with brown feathers.

"My eye, my eyes…" Henrick whined, clutching his half-shredded face. If anything remained of his eyes as he lifted his face towards Gambit, Remy couldn't tell for al the blood and misshapen flesh.

"You're welcome for me savin' you life," Gambit retorted. "Guess you ain't gonna be ogglin' no belle filles again any time soon."

"My eyes…" Henrick sobbed, but Gambit was already walking away. As the police arrived at the scene to find both wounded men, there was no sign of their mysterious helper.

Round the block at the front of the block of flats, Gambit was reunited with Electra. The blue-haired girl seemed much less sure of herself now. In fact as Gambit approached with the money in his hand, he saw she was in fact close to tears. Her need for vengeance had been fulfilled, that anger she felt towards Fallon was abated. She could hold a grudge, but she could also let one go. She clutched her ribs in her hands, making Remy wonder how much her own fury and adrenaline had been keeping her on her feet. He knew she was still black and blue from her beating. He took her willowy form into his arms and held her silently for a few moments. Electra only buried her face in his chest and stood shaking with exhaustion.

A phone rang, it was Blaze. The party was over and she was ready for the next one. Gambit agreed that some good times were in order after the last few days. They met up at a bar far enough away to avoid the cops, dolled out the money between the three of them, and avoided the ominous question of 'what next?' Electra worried if she had outlasted the interest in her now they had the money. Gambit was all the things Fallon hadn't been, she wanted to pursue that, but didn't know if she'd be given the chance. Gambit wondered about how he'd find the next job, the next contact, and the next place to live. The clock on the wall over the bar distracted Blaze. She was thinking of her date that night and when Gambit was going to get rid of Electra. The conversation stuttered, stalled and became eventually an awkward silence.

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"How long do they think it will be before we can interrogate either of them?" Lance asked Gus as he handed over a lukewarm cup of hospital coffee in a beige plastic cup.

"Henrick should only be a couple of days, a week tops," Gus answered. "Fallon will be longer. Whatever got him has done some damage. All I know is I'd give my right arm to know who took him down."

"The consultant mentioned a blast wound?"

"Yeah, it's the strangest thing. We all heard the blast, but forensics can't find any trace of explosives and no weapon has been found…" Gus shook his head slowly, blowing on his coffee. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear it was a mutant."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**A/N:** Please read and review?

**10**

**Two weeks later**

The weather had cooled over the last few days and nights. Small cotton wool clouds dotted the azure sky. The surf had improved, bringing with it a gentle breeze from offshore that smelt of brine and cool water. Blaze had done things these past weeks that she had never dreamed of when she arrived here. Keeping up her pretence of being a tourist, she had let Lance show her the sights of his city. They had seen the Springboks play, dined on local delicacies, and Blaze had developed a taste for South African wine. They had even climbed Table Mountain, and the panoramic view from the summit had taken Blaze's breath away. In short she was having fun, and it was all down to Lance.

Tonight she was supposed to be meeting him in a quaint café bar the locals seemed to love. He was late; he'd phoned ahead and left a message to say as much. Delayed at work. No matter how persuasive Blaze got, he kept working. He also never talked about his work, said he liked to keep his private life and work separate. Blaze agreed with the principle, she hardly wanted to talk about her work either.

Not that Blaze was working particularly hard recently. It wasn't just that she was busy seeing the sights either. As long as Gambit kept himself occupied with Electra, Blaze was staying out of their way. If they hadn't been cheapskates and rented their new apartment together, she would probably never run into them. Of course it was hard to totally lose someone you knew as well as Blaze knew Gambit. Still Blaze was relishing however paltry a chance it was to have her own independence. She hoped Remy was missing her.

"We need to talk, c'mon," Lance appeared halfway through Blaze's daydream of Gambit begging her to lavish some attention on him. Improbable as it was, she was quite enjoying it. Lance's tone and his interruption made her scowl at him without meaning to. "What? Why?"

"Not here," Lance shook his head, "C'mon."

"No, I'm happy here," Blaze indicated to her full glass of wine. It was clear and honeyed yellow, smelling sweet and tantalising. "Anything you have to say, sit down and say it Lance."

"You lied to me," he started, sliding into the seat opposite and meeting Blaze's eyes with so much hurt and disbelief in his face she had to look away. "You're name isn't Ella, you're no student…"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Blaze lied, forcing herself to look at him again. Something was very wrong here. How could he know she'd been inventive with the truth?

"You call yourself Blaze. You're an international thief, working with an American called Gambit. You're wanted in a…a stupid amount of countries for crimes ranging from petty theft to…to blackmail and heists of priceless artwork! I know who you are don't lie to me anymore, please."

Blaze picked up her glass and took a sip of the soothing liquid. She was going to need it. The option of insisting she was innocent vanished with that calmest of actions. Yet he knew too much. To insist that he was wrong would only dig her a deeper hole. Better to try and salvage something, to at least haul out of him where this spontaneous knowledge had come from. "Who told you all this?" she enticed gently, meeting his eyes and holding them. "Who have you been talking to Lance?"

He sighed, a deep and mournful sigh. Ever since Gus had shown him the identikit images of the alleged mutants Henrick had described, Lance had hoped she would deny it. He'd spent today tracking down all he could on this femme fatal thief and her partner. What he'd learned had been excruciating for him. She had told him nothing about herself that was true, and now she wasn't even attempting to play innocent. It was almost too much for Lance to accept.

"It doesn't matter," he moaned, setting his jaw stubbornly. "Just be satisfied that I know too much for my own peace of mind. How many countries have you committed crimes in anyway? France, Germany, Italy, Australia, what am I missing?"

"Why does it matter?" Blaze retorted in reply, and then wished she hadn't.

"It matters because you lied to me!" Lance hissed. There were probably much more powerful and heady reasons why what she had done was shameful, but that was the only one that interested him at the moment. "How do I know that anything you've told me is real? I mean, as far as I know you've been with me, then gone back and given this Gambit guy the same treatment!"

"For fuck's sake!" Blaze exclaimed, "He's just a mate!"

"So you're not denying that you know him then?" Lance accused her balefully. "Just how old are you really anyway?"

"Eighteen," Blaze confessed, then winced as he put his head in his heads.

"Blaze, I'm eight years older than you!"

"So?"

"So how did an eighteen year old learn half the things you did with me!"

"Oh please," Blaze rolled her eyes. "I may only be eighteen, but I've not been innocent for a long time Lance, don't worry about that."

"It's just no good," Lance stuttered, still in distress, "Ell… I mean Blaze, I'm going to have to arrest you."

"What do you mean?" Blaze felt a chill wash over her and she shivered. Her stomach turned over and she clenched her jaw so hard her teeth hurt. She already knew the answer.

"I'm a police officer. We've got your description in connection with drugs offences after a raid we made two weeks ago."

"Henrick," Blaze hugged herself, leaning back in the chair. "Bastard."

"Henrick," Lance nodded. "We couldn't work out where he got the drugs from, or why he tried to sell them to Fallon, until he gave us the description of one of Fallon's regular girls."

"Electra," Blaze nodded. "She's screwing Gambit now. Fallon had her beat up in front of the wrong bloke."

"Why?" Lance shook his head, "You're intelligent, beautiful, charming. Why resort to crime? Why spend your life with losers like Henrick, Electra, and this Gambit guy doesn't sound much better…"

"Look at me Lance, there's something important about me that you haven't acknowledged yet," Blaze waited for him to meet her expressionless face. "I'm a mutant. You knew that about me before you know anything else. You knew when you woke up with blisters on your skin where I'd touched you. You ignored your suspicions. You didn't want to know what I am. The truth is, because I'm a mutant I've no home to go to, no family, no qualifications, no job and no hope of a normal life like you have. Crime's all I got, that and Gambit.

"You want to arrest me," she continued as if it was of no consequence to her. "Go for it. I guarantee any judge and jury out there will lock me up. Then who knows what will happen to me. You're a cop, what do they do to mutants in jail? Drug them up, keep them in solitary confinement, experiment on them… How many don't make it to the end of their sentences? How many are locked up and the key thrown away?"

"I…I don't know," Lance stuttered.

"You could just let me leave," Blaze suggested. "Gambit and I can get out of the country, disappear so you never need hear of us again." He didn't move, so she downed her wine, pushed back her chair and made to stand. She was halfway to the door before he called out to her.

"Wait, Blaze," he stood too, and crossed the floor to take her wrist. "I can't let you leave."

Blaze didn't fight him. She just looked at him with her big Bambi eyes and very sincerely asked, "Is this going to involve handcuffs?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**A/N:** Please read and review?

**11**

Fires and Blaze were a dangerous mix, even though the mutant girl denied herself her powers to start them as far as she could. Her new beau better not take her out for a candlelit dinner, at least not if he wanted to keep his eyebrows. The thought tickled Gambit as he took a drag on another cigarette, indulging himself whilst it was safe to do so. At least so he though, when suddenly an orange flash and wave of heat smacked him in the face and he had to drop the fiery stick and stamp on it, or loose his own eyebrows.

"Saved your life," Blaze chirruped, joining Remy on the balcony to their apartment. She passed through the sliding glass door and moved to the white painted iron railing. Placing her hands shoulder's width apart, she lifted herself clear of the balcony and executed a perfect handstand, four storeys above ground level. She held it for a moment, feet together, legs straight, and asked, "You get rid of that blue-haired scally yet?"

"Non," Remy told her. "You fall I'm gonna laugh so hard…"

"Sod off," Blaze cursed him, returning to the right side of the railing and turning round to face him. "You falling for her?"

"Non," Gambit answered, folding his arms defensively.

"You sure?" Blaze pestered, tilting her head to one side inquisitively. Gambit didn't even dignify the question with an answer.

"What about you Cherie? Is someone getting the best o' you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blaze asked darkly. Then she changed the subject before he could elaborate, "Do you ever get tired of starting again somewhere new?"

"Do you Petite?" Gambit danced the question. Blaze shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself. "You fallin' for him?"

"Non," Blaze echoed Gambit's earlier dismissal. Then, feeling defensive with his red-on-black eyes looking at her so acutely, so soul-searchingly, she quantified her relationship with Lance in bitter words. "I just needed somewhere to hang my head, without your noose."

Gambit said nothing, biting his lip as Blaze grimaced and turned away from him. That had been nasty, she hadn't meant it to sound so aggressive. The sun was warm on her skin as she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the white, bright sky. Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm herself before Remy spoke again. She wasn't quick enough.

"So who is he? What he got dat Gambit ain't?" Remy didn't mean to sound jealous. It just slipped out that way. "I'm no fool Blaze. He better be treatin' you right."

"Why do you care mon Ami?" Blaze took his protectiveness as an affront to her independence, and it made her angry. "That's what I really don't get about you. Rumour is you're a real charmer, and the laydees all love you. That's why I get so much grief from them, they're always resentful that we're friends." Her voice cracked and a touch of her pain showed itself in her anger. "I mean, remember Mercury, she threatened to kill me over you, and she and I had been friends for ages! But you're never charming or suave or even nice to me. You stand there prying in my life, who I'm with, what I'm doing. Yet you never give me a single reason to stay with you rather than go out and find someone new. If only your girlfriends had something to be resentful of, Rem. Well go on, try me!" She turned round and opened her arms as if inviting an attack. "Prove that you've got it Remy, here and now, I dare you. I call your bluff, bring it on!"

Gambit just looked at her for a second as if she was going insane. Blaze could feel a flush of embarrassment reaching her cheeks. She'd as good as spelt it out for him that she did see what other did in him. Maybe he'd already known. Maybe he just wasn't attracted to her. Well done Blaze, she cursed herself, open mouth insert foot. You'll never live this one down.

"Sounds like a challenge," Remy eventually admitted, shaking his head softly. He looked Blaze over wickedly, a boyish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Oh she gone an' asked for it dis time, he thought as he dropped his arms to his sides and closed the space between them. Obviously mortified, Blaze wouldn't look at him. She'd fixed her eyes on the middle distance and even trembled slightly as he came and stood besides her. He didn't touch her, but unleashed his silver tongue to caress her with saccharine words.

"You worry too much mon Petite Cherie. Electra ain't gonna replace you, none of them are. Dis ain't somet'ing they even understand. You and me, we're too damn close, non? Nobody else put me t'rough what you do," he chuckled slightly at his own words, placing a hand next to Blaze's on the railing. He could see her apprehension changing, becoming tension that was not unwelcome. "I'm here for you Chere, always will be."

In contrast to how he was really feeling if he was honest with himself, Remy calmly placed his other hand on Blaze's spine, just above her waist. She seemed ready to shake his touch off, but something unspoken made her hesitate. Gambit knew he had her when she looked at him and met his bizarre eyes without blinking. That was usually an excellent way to tell if someone was falling for his charms. Even very close friends couldn't meet his red-on-black eyes so openly and honestly for very long without flinching. "Relax Cherie," he told her, "What's the worst that could happen?"

"I'm not sure," Blaze sceptically raised an eyebrow, but at the same time placed one hand on Gambit's chest and the other on his belly. He drew her close and raised her chin with his free hand. Stroking her jaw he ran his fingers to the back of her neck, tangling with her hair. He could feel her pushing her warm fingers under the edge of his t-shirt to touch his bare skin. A sudden hunger consumed him. Two could play at that game. He lifted the hem of her top above the small of her back and placed his fingertips on her spine. Blaze automatically moved closer to him, pressing her thighs against his and letting him take some of her weight on the arm that now wrapped around her shoulders.

"Damn you're good…" she chastised him weakly, exploring his eyes. Remy smiled his wicked smile again, "Chere, I'm the best." He smoothed his hand downwards, inside her jeans. She opened her mouth as if to protest, before changing her mind and closing it again. Remy frowned ever so slightly, raising an eyebrow himself, "Thong?"

"Commando," Blaze answered with a blush. Gambit's smile turned lecherous as he scooped her more fully into his arms. He knew Blaze could feel exactly how much he was enjoying this and didn't care. She'd brought this on herself, and from the way her hands burned as she stroked his chest she was feeling pretty damn hot too. There was only one way this was going to end.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**A/N:** Please read and review?

**12**

"Gambit, Sal van…" Electra had the world's worst timing. Her powers were ready to electrocute both Remy and Blaze the minute she saw what was occurring on the balcony. Blue lightning crackled around her, diffusing her form and lighting the danger in her eyes. Gambit practically dropped Blaze on her rear as he let go of her guiltily. Electra raised her fists and with a banshee screech hurtled towards the redhead. The orbs of electricity around Electra's fists threw forked lightning at Blaze. For a second the two female mutants were joined in a parody of puppet and puppet master. Blaze jinked and danced, screaming as Electra's power sheared through her body like lightning striking a tree. She dropped to her knees, but Electra still didn't stop. Gambit grabbed Electra around the neck with an arm and pulled her away, breaking the attack.

"Leave her alone!"

"Why?" Electra roared. "Shit Remy, what's the little pretend mutant got that I haven't?"

"She ain't pretendin'. If you do that again she'll kill us all!" Gambit was right. Electra peered round him to see wisps of fire like ghostly orange lights darting around Blaze. The fire elemental's head snapped up, her dark eyes illuminated from within by a dangerous red glow.

"Go…" Blaze murmured, not quite able to focus on Gambit or Electra. "Now, please…" Her attention turned inwards as she fought for an illusive control and she said nothing more. Gambit forcefully pushed Electra back inside the apartment and shut the sliding glass door.

"Gambit, why…" Electra started to whine.

"She had somet'ing in her eye," Gambit lied.

"But your hand was…"

"What did you want?"

"Um, Sal van Hyre is here with the schematics."

"Bein," Gambit dismissed Electra and went through to the kitchen where Electra's contact was waiting.

"Did you tell Blaze we're doing a job without her?" Electra griped. Gambit didn't answer.

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If Blaze had suspicions that Gambit was moonlighting and working with Electra, she never brought it up. Gambit kept trying to stop, to call it off with Electra in more ways than one. The blue-haired power-freak just made everything so easy for him. She had the connections to get work and the talent with complex security systems to pull the jobs off. In contrast Blaze was keeping her nose surprisingly clean, keeping any thievery she did indulge in not only below the police radar but below Gambit's as well. The only things he was certain about was that she hadn't invited him to come on to her again, and that she was still seeing the same mystery guy.

The last thing Remy had expected when out and on the piss with Electra was to run into Blaze and her boyfriend. He saw Blaze first, leaning on a wall in the nightclub. She hadn't seen him. Remy went to talk to her, but stopped a dozen feet away when a blond man with blue eyes and broad shoulders swaggered over to the redhead.

Blaze smiled at the man, touching him intimately, inviting him to start kissing her deeply. Gambit watched in grim fascination as the couple all but made love against the wall of the building. He lost sight of them briefly when a gang of youths shouldered him out of their way on their trip to the bar. When he looked back to where Blaze had been, she was no longer there. Gambit frowned, rubbing his brow with the back of his arm. Now he'd lost Electra too, and he hadn't even got a drink.

"Long time no see mon Ami," Blaze drawled over his left shoulder, making him turn on the spot. "How's my replacement?"

"Petite…" Gambit began, not liking the tone in Blaze's voice.

"This guy hassling you Blaze?" the blond placed his hand on Blaze's bare shoulder and gave Gambit a look that could kill.

"He wishes," Blaze shook her head. "Gambit, Lance, Lance, Gambit."

"Nice to finally meet you," Lance didn't sound like he meant it as he shook Gambit's hand. "Blaze tells me you're a bit of a card shark. I'm not too shabby at poker myself, maybe you fancy a game?"

"No problem Ami," Gambit postured confidently, "Lead the way." He gestured to a low table and a pair of sofas in the opposite corner of the room.

"I'll get some drinks," Blaze sighed, and left them to it. She passed Electra on her way to the bar, but both women blanked the other. By the time she reached the bar, Blaze was aware of being watched. A big black man supping on a bottle of beer looked her over coolly as she placed her order. When Blaze asked sarcastically if she could help him, he laughed.

"Join me in a toast," he said. "Thanks to you and your friends, today Fallon went down for a very long time."

"You're a cop?"

"I'm Gus," he shook Blaze's hand. "Nice to meet you Blaze. I wondered what my partner was throwing his career away for, now I know." He spoke with such a friendly smile it disguised the insult, but not totally. Blaze frowned, feeling a tingling at the back of her skull.

"Stay out of my head, telepath," Blaze snapped, grabbing the drinks and pushing off the bar. Gus shook his head slowly, smiling. The seed of an idea had already been planted in the redhead's mind whilst they had been talking. Gus would see to it that the thief broke Lance's heart and set him back on the straight and narrow.

Gambit gave an inward groan as yet again fate dealt him a pathetic hand. Of course he was cheating, but even cheating could only improve things so much. Outwardly he kept his poker face straight, even as Blaze turned up with three beers. Electra was draped over the back of the sofa Remy was sat on, sipping an alcopop through a straw like a little girl. Blaze sat next to Lance, pulling an appreciative face when she saw the amount of cash being bet on the table.

Much to Gambit's obvious chagrin, Lance won. Blaze didn't notice. She had felt those eyes on her again and was scanning the crowds in the club to try and locate their source. A sweep of glistening steel grey hair… Blaze stood, transfixed, trying to get a better look. Lance looked up, concerned, and then followed Blaze. Gambit wasn't so foolish as to leave so much cash unattended, scooping up notes and playing cards and stashing them in his trench coat pockets before following Blaze and Lance. Electra trailed behind like a lost duckling, frantically trying to work out what was going on.

It all happened in slow motion for Blaze. She pushed through the clubbers on the dance floor, her vision distorted by the heaving wall of bodies and the pulsing lights. The air was hot and smoky, heavy with humidity and music. Her head pounded with the bass as the DJ did his thing. Still she felt eyes on her, and had glimpsed metallically bronzed skin to her left. She turned to look closer as at the same instant the crowds suddenly parted and Blaze saw who it was who was watching her.

From super-slow to lightning-quick, Blaze barely had time to register that it was her old friend turned enemy Mercury, before all hell broke loose. Flicking her long grey hair back over her narrow shoulders, Mercury lifted her hands, eyes flickering with insanity. All across the room, metallic objects dissolved and became liquid at Mercury's request. The steel barrier running between the bar area and the dance floor in a space-age sweeping curve buckled and heaved. Mercury gestured that the alloy leap from the ground and surge through the air in a torrent of deadly metal soup. From the look in her mad eyes, she fully intended to thrust the liquid down Blaze's throat and lungs, drowning her. All of Blaze's vision was filed with the shimmering silver death. Though a small rational part of her knew it was a stupid thing to do, Blaze screamed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Gambit; do own pretty much everyone else.

**A/N:** Please read and review?

**13**

Gambit arrived just in time to see Lance rugby tackle Blaze out of the way of the torrent of flying metal. The couple rolled in a heap across the floor, but it would do them no good. Mercury had already adjusted her powers to send the metal to attack again. Gambit's fingers lodged around the extendable pole he kept in his pocket. Leaping between the metal and its target, he struck the liquid out of the air, splattering it across the dance floor. The respite was probably only temporary, but at least he'd give Mercury something else to think about.

Noticing tendrils of metal creeping towards his legs like possessed silver snakes, Remy took the initiative and charged Mercury. He shouldered her in the collarbone, and then kicked her in the stomach. She wailed but didn't fall. Grabbing Gambit's metallic staff with two hands, she sent a ripple-like vibration down its length. The weapon turned on its master, trying to reach to choke Remy. Gambit strained but couldn't take his hands off the weapon.

"Hey bitch!" Electra challenged, coming up behind Mercury. "That's my boyfriend, get your own!" That distracted Mercury enough that she turned, letting Gambit snatch his hands back. The staff splashed ruined to the ground. Electra cried out as Mercury slapped the other young woman across the face, leaving scratches where her long nails caught Electra's pale skin. On the follow-through, Electra blocked and grabbed Mercury's trailing arm. With relish the blue-haired powerhouse unleashed her own mutation and flooded Mercury with tens of thousands of volts. Mercury, it seemed, was a natural conductor. She screamed a high pitch wail, like a fork scraped on a plate, and collapsed.

At some point during the struggle, the surrounding crowds had started panicking and screaming. Now it was over several large bouncers started pushing their way through the clubbers to Gambit and company. Gambit grabbed Electra's upper arm and tugged her to his side, ready to make a break for it or fight if necessary. A quick check over his shoulder showed Lance helping Blaze to her feet. Remy breathed a silent sigh of relief that his protégée was unharmed. If Lance hadn't had such great timing, it might all have been so different. Somewhat stupefied by that thought of gratitude, Remy returned the other man's glance with a nod of thanks.

"What's going on?" a bouncer snarled, pushing Gambit in the chest, hard. One of his colleagues poked at the semi-conscious Mercury with a toe of his shoe. She groaned, and the puddles of metal around her resonated slightly. Lance noticed the signs of life in the attempted murderer even as a foul-mouthed baboon of a bouncer was accosting him. This needed to be stopped, and now before the mutant attacker recovered her strength enough to start again.

Blaze saw Lance reaching for the pocket where he kept his badge of office. Gus, pushing through the crowd to back up his partner, saw the look of horror traverse her face. She pleaded with her boyfriend, "Lance, no!" but was ignored. At her words Electra, then Remy, turned to look at the couple. Lance raised his badge, the silver shield shining in the still-flashing lights, his expression stern and professional. Whatever he said to the bouncers to calm the situation, Blaze didn't hear it. Dread ran up her spine and chilled her to the bones. This was not good.

As Gus and Lance sat Mercury up and read her rights, they tied her hands with plastic binding strips. Lance didn't even look back at Blaze as the two cops started to take Mercury away. The party started again in the club as the bouncers drifted off like hyenas into the savannah. Blaze didn't notice. With her ears ringing strangely like they were full of water, she watched Lance leave. Why had he done that? What had he just done?

Blaze heard Gambit plain enough. He spat "Outside, now," in her left ear. Blaze did as she was told, feeling uncomfortable with both Remy and Electra trailing her. She jogged up the steps and stumbled over the curb into the street. The cooler air throbbed against her cheeks as she turned back to face the music.

"A cop?" Gambit asked disbelievingly, "Merde Blaze, a fuckin' cop!"

"Its none of your business, Cajun."

"You got Mercury arrested! I don't care what she done, you trained better that to get a fellow t'ief slammed up!" Gambit grabbed Blaze by the arms and shook her hard. "I know you knew he was a cop! You ain't lyin' to me! You tryin' to put us all in danger!"

"I'm not trying to do anything!" Blaze slapped his arms away hotly. "I stopped him from following a lead that would have tied us in with Fallon and Henrick. I…" She tried to rationalise what she had done and couldn't. Suddenly it didn't make any sense in her mind either, to be with a police officer. "I don't have to explain anything to you! Let me past, now!" She tried to dive round Gambit and head back inside. Remy sidestepped and filled her path again, practically picking her up and lifting her away from the doorway, before pushing her staggering into the street.

"You ain't seein' him no more!" Gambit yelled furiously.

"You've no fucking right!" the girl screamed hysterically, her anger flashing in her eyes. She backed away from him across the street, ignorant of the rest of the world. Overhead the sky was a blackout curtain, trapping in the fluorescent glow of street lamps and illuminated signs. The reverberating music of the nightclub resonated through the ground she stood on. She could still feel its crushing embrace, thumping her ribcage, making it hard for her to breathe. Her ears rang with the distorted sound. Adrenaline and alcohol in her blood fuelled her rage, enticed it until it overrode all other feelings she had ever had for him.

"Stupid bitch!" he roared back righteously, storming after her and reaching to grab her arm. She struggled as his grip pinched her flesh, knowing he was stronger than she was. This girl was no pushover though, she twisted and elbowed him in the neck, making him retch and let go. She moved away again, and then stopped, watching him warily.

"Stay the fucking hell away from me!"

"Shit…" he coughed, placing his hands on his thighs, dropping his head and coughing. He spat to clear his throat, and then shook his head in a vague effort to clear his thoughts. When he looked up again, he ran his eyes over her body with familiarity he perhaps shouldn't have. He'd done so much for her, and this was how she repaid him? He'd wanted her, but now everything about her disgusted him. So then, this was how it was to end… "Why Blaze, why you do it?"

"For some God-forsaken freedom, Gambit! I wasn't born to be abused by you, I refuse to be," Blaze spat nastily, meeting his eyes unashamedly. "I'm no tool. Get the hell out of my life Remy, we're through. Everyone's got their chains to break, this is mine."

"Fine," Gambit threw up his hands. "Bien, Cherie. Have a nice fuckin' life. C'mon Electra, we're outta this dump."

"Where we going?" Electra whinged.

"Cairo, Rio, Amsterdam, who cares?" Gambit turned his back on Blaze and started walking off into the night. Electra had to jog to catch up with him. Disappointment tainted his anger as he dismissed Blaze. "Anywhere dat ain't near that cop-lovin' slut."

Blaze watched them go, feeling tears start to sting her eyes but refusing to cry. Her chest ached painfully, she almost couldn't breathe because of it. She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath in through flared nostrils. "Fine," she spoke more to herself than Gambit's receding back. "I don't need you Rem, I don't need anyone. I can be a one-woman crime wave and Cape Town won't know what's hit it."

She didn't go back in the club to find Lance. As soon as Mercury was locked up on charges of attempted murder, Blaze broke up with him. She said their worlds were too different. She lied, knowing that their worlds were one and the same, but the lines had been drawn long before they had met and the rules could not be changed. Blaze set off alone into the dawn that day, carrying only a burden of broken dreams and promises, and a hunger to prove her worth.

**The End**

**A/N:** Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, especially hiddenflame and RescueMe, you are all too kind. See ya next time, love Lamby


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